


This Little Bitch!

by mrgoldsdearie



Series: Nygmobblepot Ficlets [13]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, flower shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: Someone else gifts Edward with flowers and Oswald is jealous. (A prompt from the flower shop AU "Set to Bloom")





	This Little Bitch!

Could Oswald’s eyes be deceiving him? Is what he witnessing real?

He stands just outside of E-Nygma Green Room, the flower shop in which his intended lover owns. He and Edward have only started to see each other this past week and nothing between them is official, but Oswald can’t stand the ache in his heart when he sees Edward expecting a gift of flowers from another.

How can Edward be so happy taking that god awful bouquet from the faceless blond before him? Where did she even get such dry looking roses? Edward would never sell that shit in his shop.

Look! A touch of the hand.

How dare this little bitch! Using the same subtle gestures Oswald once used when asking Edward out on their first date. Was she watching them that day?

The mayor fumes with jealousy.

Another laugh between the seemingly happy couple and Edward smells his gift of sub-par roses.

Fuck this shit!

Oswald storms inside.

“Mr. Mayor!,” Edward greets him warmly as he’s always done. “I didn’t expect to see you until tonight.”

“It’s a good thing I stopped by.” Oswald matches past the blond woman and stands next to Edward behind the cash counter - something he’s never ever done. He stares at the lady with a cold dead glare. She better not mutter a single word about her hideous roses.

“Oswald—” Edward adjusts his glasses, eying the mayor with confusion spread across his features— “what are you doing?”

Never breaking his view of the blonde, Oswald answers the florist. “Waiting for you to finish helping _this customer._ ” He emphasized the words to make sure the lady knows her position here.

“She isn’t a customer. This is Isabella,” Edward introduces her. “Isn’t that bizarre.”

Oswald turns to Edward, tipping his head slightly to the right. “Why would having an Isabelle in your shop be bizarre.”

“My name is Isabella,” she corrects him and Oswald quickly snaps his head back to her.

The absolute gall of her correcting the mayor of Gotham. The most respected man in the city. If he says her name is Isabelle, then dammit, her name will be Isabelle!

The rosy cheeks of this _Isabella_ beaming brightly at the mayor makes his skin crawl from his bones. How could Edward even consider dating such a plain looking woman? A man with Edward’s beauty deserves someone far more stunning - someone like him.

“Edward was just telling me about your date and how you guessed my name,” she goes on to say. “I thought it was amazing how you guessed it.“ She speaks with a friendly grin. “You have a real keen sense, Mr. Mayor.”

The grimace falls from Oswald’s face and glances plainly at Edward. “Wait…. What’s going on?”, he asks. Could he have presumed this whole situation wrong?

Edward chuckles and opens the top drawer of the counter to pull out a pair of sheers. “You’re so cute when you’re confused,” he says, removing one of the roses from his bouquet and trims the long stem. “Though I haven’t a clue why you are.” He slips the red rose behind his ear. “Well, I guess that is kinda my fault. It completely slipped my mind that I help Isabella with a bit of car trouble that night. I was in such a rush to get your house and I didn’t mention it to you when I got there.” He turns back to Oswald and picks off the bit of rose stem that landed on his shoulder. “She brought me these flowers to thank me.”

“I wouldn’t have made it to my convention if it wasn’t for him,” Isabella intervenes.

“And we wouldn’t have had the perfect wine if it wasn’t for you,” Edward adds, smiling kindly at the woman. “I can’t thank you enough for that and these gorgeous roses.” He takes another rose from the bouquet and snips the stem, then slides it into Oswald’s breast pocket - arranging it snugly with the mayor’s purple pocket square. “Handsome.” He winks.

“I’m very pleased that you like them… If you could please excuse me, I must be going. My wife is waiting outside and told her this would be quick.”

“No need to apologize,” Edward assures her. “You go be with her. Maybe next time you visit, you could buy her something.”

“I think I will.” She extends her hand to shake Edward’s and the florist gently takes it. “I’ll see you soon,” she says with a nod and glances at Oswald. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Mayor.”

Oswald stands frozen, unable to muster up a reply. He feels so foolish to ever think Edward would be accepting a date request from another. He could never tell Edward how he truly felt today. He can’t let the florist think that he could be this possessive so early in their relationship.

When the little green bell above the door chimes with Isabella’s exit, Edward takes Oswald by the hand. “Hey—” he lightly squeezes the mayor’s hand— “are you alright? Your skin is very pale…. Well, more pale than usual.” He snickers in his hand. He couldn’t allow the chance for that little joke to pass.

Movement returns to Oswald with the warmth of Edward’s touch. “Yes, I’m okay,” he eventually speaks.

“Okay, that’s good.” Edward gathers the rest of his roses from the counter. “After I put these in water, I’m gonna take lunch. I brought my own lunch today, so it’s just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I didn’t expect any company, but I would love to share it with you.”

“You’d share your only sandwich with me?”

“Of course I would, Oswald.”

Oswald smiles, feeling his shame wither away the longer he gazes into those deep brown eyes. He can’t promise to never be jealous again, but he can trust Edward and not be too quick to judge. “I’d adore that.”


End file.
